hotmtlnovel Chapter 44 Shadow
Chapter 44 Shadow
The fourth week in subspace. The Black Pearl traversed the chaotic sea smoothly, its portholes' armored covers tightly shut, leaving only the faint glow of instrument panels and indicator lights on the bridge. Sera's voice came through the communication channel, steady as ever: "Course stable, expected arrival at the jump point in five weeks. Eastern frontier of the Extreme Starfield, target system coordinates locked."
Liu En sat at his workbench in his private workshop. In the higher dimension, the design of the grafting between the Shadow Force Field and the Imperial energy network floated deep within his consciousness, each lattice structure having undergone atomic-level verification. This wasn't his first attempt to integrate alien technology into the Imperial system, but this time the complexity far surpassed anything before. The Dark Eldar's cloaking array wasn't a simple sensor jammer, but a complete, proactive energy field system capable of creating false blind spots on the enemy's detection screen. Its core algorithm was built on a completely different path of physical constant optimization; the material formulation of the energy conduits, the method of energy flow modulation, and even the most basic voltage standards were incompatible with Imperial standards.
He spent weeks meticulously analyzing the material composition of every energy pipeline on the Dark Eldar escort ship, creating a massive cross-reference table in his database. Then came round after round of trial and error—constructing virtual grafting models in high-dimensional space, simulating energy flow, observing the stress distribution of the crystal structure, recording failed data, and starting over. Failed designs filled the database's temporary archive area; some had incorrect curvature of the energy channel, others had material doping ratios deviating by a fraction of a degree, and still others had interface protocols between two different technological systems resonating at energy peaks.
The final iteration is complete. The core algorithm of the Dark Eldar cloaking array has been fully embedded into the Imperial standard energy conduction framework—not an add-on, not an interface converter, but a complete overhaul of the Imperial energy system at the atomic level. The curvature of the flow channels has been optimized to a theoretical upper limit, the material formula has undergone hundreds of fine-tunings, and the doping ratio in the crystal structure is accurate to three decimal places. Once activated, this system will distort the Black Pearl's sensor reflection signals through multiple layers of interference fields, creating a blind spot on the enemy's detection screen that is indistinguishable from background radiation.
He began the installation. It wasn't a large-scale modification; it didn't require dismantling the existing structure, replacing entire sections of piping, or moving the ship into dry dock. During his daily inspections, as he walked through every corridor and every compartment, an atomic-level reshaping quietly took place within the area covered by his field of influence. A new lattice structure grew on the inner wall of the energy conduit within the original diameter of the multi-layered composite material, incorporating the energy guiding layer of the stealth array while maintaining the same flow cross-sectional area. No welding was needed, no parts needed to be replaced, and no visible signs of construction were required. To the crew, the surface of the piping looked exactly the same as before—rust, stains, welding slag, exactly the same.
On the first day, he completed the main pipelines around the bridge. On the second day, the engine room and weapons systems. On the third day, the cargo holds and logistics area. On the fourth day, the garrison's training and living quarters. Each day, he spent several extra hours in those corridors familiar to the crew.
The crew knew the captain would make his daily rounds. They knew these rounds were usually short; the captain would walk by, look around, and leave. But these past few days, the rounds had been unusually long. Three hours, sometimes longer. When Liu En walked through the engine room, he lingered for a long time in front of the reactor hull, his palms pressed against the warm metal surface, as if listening to something. When he walked through the armory, he stood for a long time beside the ammunition racks, his gaze sweeping over the neatly arranged magazines of explosives. As he walked through the corridors, he paused at certain corners, his palms pressed against the bulkheads, his eyes closed. The crew members on watch passed by him, saluted, and then left. No one came forward to ask him anything.
Marcus noticed.
The veteran naval lieutenant commander had served as the executive officer on the USS Black Pearl for over a year, and he knew the captain's routine better than anyone else. Liu En never wasted time on inspections. Each inspection was precise, efficient, and to the point. But these past few days were different.
He sat in the vice-captain's seat, scrolling through the watch log on the holographic projector. The records for the past few days showed nothing unusual—all system readings were within the standard range, the Void Shield pressure curve was smooth, the reactor output was stable, and the air circulation system's filtration efficiency was normal. The ship's condition and data were flawless.
Marcus shifted his gaze from the holographic platform and glanced at the time records in the duty log—Liu En's patrols these past few days had taken several times longer than usual. His mechanical eye narrowed slightly, and his fingers paused for a moment on the panel.
Then he continued swiping the screen as if nothing had happened, without saying anything.
Twenty-three years of naval service had taught him that a captain has a captain's job. Some questions don't need answers, and some anomalies don't need to be reported. The Black Pearl had been operating for over a year without any mishaps in subspace. That was enough.
He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes to rest. The candles in the Imperial Shrine burned quietly in the drawing room far behind him, the smoke of frankincense drifting slowly through the ventilation system.
On the seventh day, the renovation was completed.
The Black Pearl's exterior was identical to before. The rust on the armor plates, the peeling gold paint on the double-headed eagle insignia, the seals at the base of the gun barrels—the carefully crafted signs of aging from the Lucis junkyards were perfectly preserved. But every corner of the hull was embedded with energy channels for stealth arrays. From the adamantite ram at the bow to the propeller nozzles at the stern, the core algorithms of the Shadow Field were etched deep into the lattice of every energy channel.
The activation switch was hidden beneath the armrest of the commander's chair, a binary capacitor seamlessly integrated with the Void Shield control panel, its surface covered by a thin layer of ceramic steel, blending perfectly with the surrounding armor plates. Liu En input a pulse; the Thinker Array remained silent for a second, then displayed a confirmation code. He didn't press the switch. Now wasn't the time for testing; cloaking wasn't needed in the warp, and the Geller Field was sufficient. He would only know whether the system was effective once they reached the target system and the potential sensors began scanning the Black Pearl.
The workshop lights shone a cold white light in standby mode. Liu En sat at his workbench, filing the blue images from the higher dimension and labeling them "Shadow Field · Black Pearl · Grafting Complete." He wrote a few words in the notes column: "Pending practical testing." Then he stood up, walked out of the private workshop, and headed towards the canteen. There were still five weeks left in the warp voyage, enough time for him to finish the finishing touches.
The mess hall was less crowded than usual. The low pressure of warp travel had dampened the appetites of some recruits; they sat in corners, staring blankly at their plates, pale-faced, their fingers gripping their utensils, but showing little desire to eat. The veterans sat at the long tables, their plates filled with unlimited Grox steaks and starch cakes, eating leisurely. Lars quietly sipped his coffee, his new left arm firmly gripping the handle, the knuckles of his terracotta fingers reflecting a dull gleam in the lamplight. Carlos was telling a few recruits about his first boarding maneuver; the recruits listened quietly, their eyes fixed on the old scar on Carlos's face that stretched from his forehead to his chin.
The wear and tear on the warhammer and power armor were clearly visible under the harsh white lights of the mess hall. Those marks were not decorations; they were medals earned by every veteran with their lives.
Liu En sat down in the corner with his tray, cut a piece of steak, and slowly chewed it. The flavor of the synthetic protein was masked by the seasoning packet, and the fibrous texture of Grox meat was coarser than that of ant beef, but it was calorie-rich enough to accumulate in his stomach and be converted into energy to sustain his body. He chewed, looking at the faces in the mess hall: Lars, Carlos, Coleman, and the recruits whose names he didn't yet know. Some of them would die in future battles, some would survive, and the survivors would become veterans, mentoring new recruits and passing on their experience and will. That was why he needed them.
He took a sip of coffee, finished the food on his plate, stood up, and put the plate back in the recycling bin.
As we passed the imperial shrine, the incense burners before it emitted plumes of frankincense smoke. The candlelight flickered in the airflow of the ventilation system, reflecting in the eyes of the adamantite imperial statue, making those eyes, cast to gaze forward, seem almost alive in the dancing flames. Several crew members knelt before the shrine, foreheads pressed against the cold metal floor, their lips silently reciting prayers. They did not look up.
Liu En did not stop and walked through the side passage.
He returned to his private workshop, the hatch closing behind him. The airtight lock clicked dully, isolating him from all outside gazes. He dimmed the lights to their lowest setting, lay down on his bunk, pulled up his hood, and clasped his hands over his stomach. The only sound in the workshop was the quiet white noise of the ventilation system. The subspace chaos outside the bulkhead was blocked by the heavy armor; there was no sound, no light, no disturbance from that dimension.
He closed his eyes, his breathing becoming even and slow. The field maintained a minimum level of spontaneous perception—within a radius of about twenty meters, the metallic lattice of the bulkhead quietly unfolded in his consciousness, the position of each atom recorded in his database. This was a world he knew by heart.
Consciousness detached from this body, receding like a tide, and instantly arrived at Enpu's body through a higher-dimensional anchor point.